The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: pp5v - Tragedies, p. 278

Left Column


The Tragedie of Hamlet. Ham.

Why?

Clo.

'Twill not beseene in him, there the men are

as mad as he.

Ham.

How came he mad?

Clo.
[3240]

Very strangely they say.

Ham.

How strangely?

Clo.

Faith e'ene with loosing his wits.

Ham.

Vpon what ground?

Clo.

Why heere in Denmarke: I haue bin sixeteene

[3245]

heere, man and Boy thirty yeares.

Ham.

How long will a man lie'ith'earth ere he rot?

Clo.

Ifaith, if he be not rotten before he die (as we haue

many pocky Coarses now adaies, that will scarce hold

the laying in) he will last you some eight yeare, or nine

[3250]

yeare. A Tanner will last you nine year e.

Ham. Why he, more then another? Clo.

Why sir, his hide is so tan'd with his Trade, that

he will keepe out water a great while. And your water,

is a sore Decayer of your horson dead body. Heres a Scull

[3255]

now: this Scul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years.

Ham.

Whose was it ?

Clo.

A whorson mad Fellowes it was;

Whose doe you think it was?

Ham.

Nay, I know not.

Clo.
[3260]

A pestlence on him for a mad Rogue, a pou'rd pour'd a

Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This same Scull

Sir, this same Scull sir, was Yoricks Scull, the Kings Iester.

Ham.

This?

Clo.

E'ene that.

Ham.
[3265]

Let me see. Alas poore Yorick, I knew him Ho­ ratio, a fellow of infinite Iest; of most excellent fancy, he

hath borne me on his backe a thousand times.

And how abhorred my Imagination is, my gorge rises at it. Heere

hung those lipps, that I haue kist I know not how oft.

[3270]

VVhere be your Iibes now? Your Gambals ? Your

Songs? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to

set the Table on a Rore? No one now to mock your own

Ieering? Quite chopfalne? Now get you to my Ladies

Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this

[3275]

fauour she must come. Make her laugh at that: pry­

thee Horatio tell me one thing.

Hor.

What's that my Lord?

Ham.

Dost thou thinke Alexander lookt o'this fa­

shion i'th'earth?

Hor.
[3280]

E'ene so.

Ham.

And smelt so? Puh.

Hor.

E'ene so, my Lord.

Ham.

To what base vses we may returne Horatio.

Why may not Imagination trace the Noble dust of lexander , till he find it stopping a bunghole.

Hor.

'Twere to consider: to curiously to consider so.

Ham.

No faith, not a iot. But to follow him thether

with modestie enough, & likeliehood to lead it; as thus.

Alexander died: Alexander was buried: Alexander re­

[3290]

turneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make

Lome, and why of that Lome (whereto he was conuer­

ted) might they not stopp a Beere‑barrell?

Imperiall Cæsar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keepe the winde away.
[3295]
Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a Wall, t'expell the winters flaw. But soft, but soft, aside; heere comes the King. Enter King, Queen, Laertes, and a Coffin, with Lords attendant. The Queene, the Courtiers. Who is that they follow,

Right Column


And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken,
[3300]
The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand, Fore do it owne life; 'twas fome Estate. Couch we a while, and mark.
Laer. What Cerimony else? Ham. That is Laertes, a very Noble youth: Marke. Laer.
[3305]
What Cerimony else?
Priest. Her Obsequies haue bin as farre inlarg'd. As we haue warrantis, her death was doubtfull, And but that great Command, o're‑swaies the order, She should in ground vnsanctified haue lodg'd,
[3310]
Till the last Trumpet. For charitable praier, Shardes, Flints, and Peebles, I should be throwne on her: Yet heere she is allowed her Virgin Rites, Her Maiden strewments, and the bringing home Of Bell and Buriall.
Laer.
[3315]
Must there no more be done?
Priest. No more be done: We should prophane the seruice of the dead, To sing sage Requiem, and such rest to her As to peace‑parted Soules. Laer.
[3320]
Lay her i'th'earth, And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh, May Violets spring. I tell thee (churlish Priest) A Ministring Angell shall my Sister be, When thou liest howling ?
Ham.
[3325]
What, the faire Ophelia?
Queene. Sweets, to the sweet farewell. I hop'd thou should'st haue bin my Hamlets wife: I thought thy Bride‑bed to haue deckt (sweet Maid) And not t'haue strew'd thy Graue. Laer.
[3330]
Oh terrible woer, Fall ten times trebble, on that cursed head Whose wicked deed, thy most Ingenious sence Depriu'd thee of. Hold off the earth a while, Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes: Leaps in the graue.
[3335]
Now pile your dust, vpon the quick, and dead, Till of this flat a Mountaine you haue made, To o're top old Pelion, or the skyish head Of blew Olympus.
Ham. What is he, whose griefes
[3340]
Beares such an Emphasis? whose phrase of Sorrow Coniure the wandrinig Starres, and makes them stand Like wonder‑wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Dane.
Laer. The deuill take thy soule. Ham.
[3345]
Thou prai'st not well, I prythee take thy fingers from my throat; Sir though I am not Spleenatiue, and rash, Yet haue I fomething in me dangerous, Which let thy wisenesse feare. Away thy hand.
King.
[3350]
Pluck them asunder.
Qu. Hamlet, Hamlet. Gen. Good my Lord be quiet. Ham. Why I will fight with him vppon this Theme, Vntill my eielids will no longer wag. Qu.
[3355]
Oh my Sonne, what Theame?
Ham. I lou'd Ophelia; fortie thousand Brothers Could not (with all there quanitie of Loue) Make vp my summe. What wilt thou do for her? King. Oh he is mad Laertes, Qu.
[3360]
For loue of God forbeare him.
Ham. Come show me what thou'lt doe. Woo't weepe? Woo't fight? Woo't teare thy selfe? Woo't drinke vp Esile, eate a Crocodile? Ile

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[Act 5, Scene 1] Enter two Clownes. Clown.

Is she to bee buried in Christian buriall, that

wilfully seeks her owne saluation?

Other.

I tell thee she is, and therefore make her Graue

[3090]

straight. the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Chri­

stian buriall.

Clo.

How can that be, vnlesse she drowned her selfe in

her owne defence ?

Other. Why 'tis found so. Clo.
[3095]

It must be Se offindendo, it cannot bee else: for

heere lies the point; If I drowne my selfe wittingly, it ar­

gues an Act: and an Act hath three branches. It is an

Act to doe and to performe; argall she drown'd her selfe

wittingly.

Other.
[3100]

Nay but heare you Goodman Deluer.

Clown.

Giue me leaue; heere lies the water; good:

heere stands the man; good: If the man goe to this wa­

ter and drowne himselfe; it is will he nill he, he goes;

marke you that? But if the water come to him & drowne

[3105]

him; hee drownes not himselfe. Argall, hee that is not

guilty of his owne death, shortens not his owne life.

Other.

But is this law?

Clo.

I marry is't, Crowners Quest Law.

Other.

Will you ha the truth on't: if this had not

[3110]

beene a Gentlewoman, shee should haue beene buried

out of Christian Buriall.

Clo.

Why there thou say'st. And the more pitty tha

great folke should haue countenance in this world to

drowne or hang themselves, more then their euen Christi­

[3115]

an. Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen,

but Gardiners, Ditchers and Graue‑makers; they hold vp

Adams Profession.

Other.

Was he a Gentleman?

Clo.

He was the first that euer bore Armes.

Other.
[3120]

Why he had none.

Clo.

What, ar't a Heathen? how dost thou vnder­

stand the Scripture? the Scripture sayes Adam dig'd;

could hee digge without Armes ? Ile put another que­

stion to thee; if thou answerest me not to the purpose, con­

[3125]

fesse thy selfe⸺

Other.

Go too.

Clo.

What is he that builds stronger then either the

Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter ?

Other.

The Gallowes maker; for that Frame outliues a

[3130]

thousand Tenants.

Clo.

I like thy wit well in good faith, the Gallowes

does well; but how does it well? it does well to those

that doe ill: now, thou dost ill to say the Gallowes is

built stronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes

[3135]

may doe well to thee. Too't againe, Come.

Other.

Who builds stronger then a Mason, a Ship­

wright, or a Carpenter?

Clo.

I, tell me that, and vnyoake.

Other.

Marry, now I can tell.

Clo.
[3140]

Too't.

Other.

Masse, I cannot tell.

Enter Hamlet and Horatio a farre off. Clo.

Cudgell thy braines no more about it; for your

dull Asse will not mend his pace with beating; and when

you are ask't this question next, say a Graue‑maker: the

[3145]

Houses that he makes, lasts till Doomesday: go, get thee

to Taughan, fetch me a stoupe of Liquor.

Sings. In youth when I did loue, did loue, me thought it was very sweete: To contract O the time for a my behoue,
[3150]
O me thought there was nothing meete.
Ham.

Ha's this fellow no feeling of his businesse, that

he sings at Graue‑making?

Hor.

Custome hath made it in him a property of ea­

sinesse.

Ham.
[3155]

Tis ee'n so; the hand of little Imployment hath

the daintier sense.

Clowne sings. But Age with his stealing steps hath caught me in his clutch: And hath shipped me intill the Land,
[3160]
as if I had neuer beene such.
Ham.

That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing

once: how the knaue iowles it to th' grownd, as if it

were Caines Iaw‑bone, that did the first murther: It

might be the Pate of a Polititian which this Asse o're Of­

[3165]

fices: one that could circumuent God, might it not?

Hor.

It might, my Lord.

Ham.

Or of a Courtier, which could say, Good Mor­

row sweet Lord: how dost thou, good Lord? this

might be my Lord such a one, that prais'd my Lord such

[3170]

a ones Horse, when he meant to begge it; might it not?

Hor.

I, my Lord.

Ham.

Why ee'n so: and now my Lady Wormes,

Chaplesse, and knockt about the Mazard with a Sextons

Spade; heere's fine Reuolution, if wee had the tricke to

[3175]

fee't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but

to play at Loggets with 'em? mine ake to thinke

on't.

Clowne sings. A Pickhaxe and a Spade, a Spade. for and a shrowding‐Sheete:
[3180]
O a Pit of Clay for to be made, for such a Guest is meete.
Ham.

There's another: why might not that bee the

Scull of of a Lawyer? where be his Quiddits now? his

Quillets? his Cases? his Tenures, and his Tricks? why

[3185]

doe's he suffer this rude knaue now to knocke him about

the Sconce with a dirty Shouell, and will not tell him of

his Action of Battery? hum. This fellow might be in's

time a great buyer of Land, with his statutes, his Recog­

nizances, his Fines, his double Vouchers, his Recoueries:

[3190]

Is this the fine of his Fines, and the recouery of his Reco­

ueries, to haue his fine Pate full of fine Dirt? will his

Vouchers vouch him no more of his Purchases, and dou­

ble ones too, then the length and breadth of a paire of

Indentures? the very Conueyances of his Lands will

[3195]

hardly lye in this Boxe; and must the Inheritor himselfe

haue no more? ha?

Hor.

Not a iot more, my Lord.

Ham.

Is not Parchment made of Sheep‑skinnes?

Hor.

I my Lord, and of Calue‑skinnes too.

Ham.
[3200]

They are Sheepe and Calues that seek out assu­

rance in that. I will speake to this fellow; whose Graue's

this Sir?

Clo.

Mine Sir:

O a Pit of Clay for to be made,
[3205]
for such a Guest is meete.
Ham.

I thinke it be thine indeed: for thou liest in't.

Clo.

You lye out on't Sir, and therefore it is not yours:

for my part, I doe not lye in't; and yet it is mine.

Ham.

Thou dost lye in't, to be in't and say 'tis thine:

[3210]

'tis for the dead, not for the quicke, therefore thou

lyest.

Clo.

'Tis a quicke lye Sir, 'twill away againe from me

to you.

Ham.

What man dost thou digge it for ?

Clo.
[3215]

For no man Sir.

Ham.

What woman then?

Clo.

For none neither.

Ham.

Who is to be buried in't?

Clo.

One that was a woman Sir; but rest her Soule,

[3220]

shee's dead.

Ham.

How absolute the knaue is? wee must speake

by the Carde, or equiuocation will vndoe vs: by the

Lord Horatio, these three yeares I haue taken note of it,

the Age is growne so picked, that the toe of the Pesant

[3225]

comes so neere the heeles of our Courtier, hee galls his

Kibe. How long hast thou been a Graue‑maker?

Clo.

Of all the dayes i'th yeare, I came too't that day

that our last King Hamlet o'recame Fortinbras.

Ham.

How long is that since?

Clo.
[3230]

Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that:

It was the very day, that young Hamlet was borne, hee

that was mad, and sent into England.

Ham.

I marry, why was he sent into England?

Clo.

Why, because he was mad; hee shall recouer his

[3235]

wits there; or if he do not, it's no great matter there.

Ham.

Why?

Clo.

'Twill not beseene in him, there the men are

as mad as he.

Ham.

How came he mad?

Clo.
[3240]

Very strangely they say.

Ham.

How strangely?

Clo.

Faith e'ene with loosing his wits.

Ham.

Vpon what ground?

Clo.

Why heere in Denmarke: I haue bin sixeteene

[3245]

heere, man and Boy thirty yeares.

Ham.

How long will a man lie'ith'earth ere he rot?

Clo.

Ifaith, if he be not rotten before he die (as we haue

many pocky Coarses now adaies, that will scarce hold

the laying in) he will last you some eight yeare, or nine

[3250]

yeare. A Tanner will last you nine year e.

Ham. Why he, more then another? Clo.

Why sir, his hide is so tan'd with his Trade, that

he will keepe out water a great while. And your water,

is a sore Decayer of your horson dead body. Heres a Scull

[3255]

now: this Scul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years.

Ham.

Whose was it ?

Clo.

A whorson mad Fellowes it was;

Whose doe you think it was?

Ham.

Nay, I know not.

Clo.
[3260]

A pestlence on him for a mad Rogue, a pou'rd pour'd a

Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This same Scull

Sir, this same Scull sir, was Yoricks Scull, the Kings Iester.

Ham.

This?

Clo.

E'ene that.

Ham.
[3265]

Let me see. Alas poore Yorick, I knew him Ho­ ratio, a fellow of infinite Iest; of most excellent fancy, he

hath borne me on his backe a thousand times.

And how abhorred my Imagination is, my gorge rises at it. Heere

hung those lipps, that I haue kist I know not how oft.

[3270]

VVhere be your Iibes now? Your Gambals ? Your

Songs? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to

set the Table on a Rore? No one now to mock your own

Ieering? Quite chopfalne? Now get you to my Ladies

Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this

[3275]

fauour she must come. Make her laugh at that: pry­

thee Horatio tell me one thing.

Hor.

What's that my Lord?

Ham.

Dost thou thinke Alexander lookt o'this fa­

shion i'th'earth?

Hor.
[3280]

E'ene so.

Ham.

And smelt so? Puh.

Hor.

E'ene so, my Lord.

Ham.

To what base vses we may returne Horatio.

Why may not Imagination trace the Noble dust of lexander , till he find it stopping a bunghole.

Hor.

'Twere to consider: to curiously to consider so.

Ham.

No faith, not a iot. But to follow him thether

with modestie enough, & likeliehood to lead it; as thus.

Alexander died: Alexander was buried: Alexander re­

[3290]

turneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make

Lome, and why of that Lome (whereto he was conuer­

ted) might they not stopp a Beere‑barrell?

Imperiall Cæsar, dead and turn'd to clay, Might stop a hole to keepe the winde away.
[3295]
Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe, Should patch a Wall, t'expell the winters flaw. But soft, but soft, aside; heere comes the King. Enter King, Queen, Laertes, and a Coffin, with Lords attendant. The Queene, the Courtiers. Who is that they follow, And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken,
[3300]
The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand, Fore do it owne life; 'twas fome Estate. Couch we a while, and mark.
Laer. What Cerimony else? Ham. That is Laertes, a very Noble youth: Marke. Laer.
[3305]
What Cerimony else?
Priest. Her Obsequies haue bin as farre inlarg'd. As we haue warrantis, her death was doubtfull, And but that great Command, o're‑swaies the order, She should in ground vnsanctified haue lodg'd,
[3310]
Till the last Trumpet. For charitable praier, Shardes, Flints, and Peebles, I should be throwne on her: Yet heere she is allowed her Virgin Rites, Her Maiden strewments, and the bringing home Of Bell and Buriall.
Laer.
[3315]
Must there no more be done?
Priest. No more be done: We should prophane the seruice of the dead, To sing sage Requiem, and such rest to her As to peace‑parted Soules. Laer.
[3320]
Lay her i'th'earth, And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh, May Violets spring. I tell thee (churlish Priest) A Ministring Angell shall my Sister be, When thou liest howling ?
Ham.
[3325]
What, the faire Ophelia?
Queene. Sweets, to the sweet farewell. I hop'd thou should'st haue bin my Hamlets wife: I thought thy Bride‑bed to haue deckt (sweet Maid) And not t'haue strew'd thy Graue. Laer.
[3330]
Oh terrible woer, Fall ten times trebble, on that cursed head Whose wicked deed, thy most Ingenious sence Depriu'd thee of. Hold off the earth a while, Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes: Leaps in the graue.
[3335]
Now pile your dust, vpon the quick, and dead, Till of this flat a Mountaine you haue made, To o're top old Pelion, or the skyish head Of blew Olympus.
Ham. What is he, whose griefes
[3340]
Beares such an Emphasis? whose phrase of Sorrow Coniure the wandrinig Starres, and makes them stand Like wonder‑wounded hearers? This is I, Hamlet the Dane.
Laer. The deuill take thy soule. Ham.
[3345]
Thou prai'st not well, I prythee take thy fingers from my throat; Sir though I am not Spleenatiue, and rash, Yet haue I fomething in me dangerous, Which let thy wisenesse feare. Away thy hand.
King.
[3350]
Pluck them asunder.
Qu. Hamlet, Hamlet. Gen. Good my Lord be quiet. Ham. Why I will fight with him vppon this Theme, Vntill my eielids will no longer wag. Qu.
[3355]
Oh my Sonne, what Theame?
Ham. I lou'd Ophelia; fortie thousand Brothers Could not (with all there quanitie of Loue) Make vp my summe. What wilt thou do for her? King. Oh he is mad Laertes, Qu.
[3360]
For loue of God forbeare him.
Ham. Come show me what thou'lt doe. Woo't weepe? Woo't fight? Woo't teare thy selfe? Woo't drinke vp Esile, eate a Crocodile? Ile doo't. Dost thou come heere to whine;
[3365]
To outface me with leaping in her Graue ? Be buried quicke with her, and so will I. And if thou prate of Mountaines; let them throw Millions of Akers on vs; till our ground Sindging his pate against the burning Zone,
[3370]
Make Ossa like a wart. Nay, and thoul't mouth, Ile rant as well as thou.
Kin. This is meere Madnesse; And thus awhile the fit will worke on him: Anon as patient as the female Doue,
[3375]
When that her golden Cuplet are disclos'd; His silence will sit drooping.
Ham. Heare you Sir: What is the reason that you vse me thus? I loud' lou'd you euer; but it is no matter:
[3380]
Let Hercules himselfe doe what he may, The Cat will Mew, and Dogge will haue his day.
Exit. Kin. I pray you good Horatio wait vpon him, Strengthen you patience in our last nights speech, Wee'l put the matter to the present push:
[3385]
Good Gertrude set some watch ouer your Sonne, This Graue shall haue a liuing Monument: An houre of quiet shortly shall we see; Till then, in patience our proceeding be.
Exeunt.
 

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   <head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 1]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter two Clownes.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clown.</speaker>
      <p n="3087">Is she to bee buried in Christian buriall, that
      <lb n="3088"/>wilfully seeks her owne saluation?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3089">I tell thee she is, and therefore make her Graue
      <lb n="3090"/>straight. the Crowner hath sate on her, and finds it Chri­
      <lb n="3091"/>stian buriall.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3092">How can that be, vnlesse she drowned her selfe in
      <lb n="3093"/>her owne defence<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <l n="3094">Why 'tis found so.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3095">It must be<hi rend="italic">Se offindendo,</hi>it cannot bee else: for
      <lb n="3096"/>heere lies the point; If I drowne my selfe wittingly, it ar­
      <lb n="3097"/>gues an Act: and an Act hath three branches. It is an
      <lb n="3098"/>Act to doe and to performe; argall she drown'd her selfe
      <lb n="3099"/>wittingly.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3100">Nay but heare you Goodman Deluer.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clown.</speaker>
      <p n="3101">Giue me leaue; heere lies the water; good:
      <lb n="3102"/>heere stands the man; good: If the man goe to this wa­
      <lb n="3103"/>ter and drowne himselfe; it is will he nill he, he goes;
      <lb n="3104"/>marke you that? But if the water come to him &amp; drowne
      <lb n="3105"/>him; hee drownes not himselfe. Argall, hee that is not
      <lb n="3106"/>guilty of his owne death, shortens not his owne life.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3107">But is this law?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3108">I marry is't, Crowners Quest Law.</p>
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   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0787-0.jpg" n="277"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3109">Will you ha the truth on't: if this had not
      <lb n="3110"/>beene a Gentlewoman, shee should haue beene buried
      <lb n="3111"/>out of Christian Buriall.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3112">Why there thou say'st. And the more pitty tha<gap extent="1"
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              reason="illegible"
              agent="hole"
              resp="#ES"/>
         
      <lb n="3113"/>great folke should haue countenance in this world to
      <lb n="3114"/>drowne or hang themselves, more then their euen Christi­
      <lb n="3115"/>an. Come, my Spade; there is no ancient Gentlemen,
      <lb n="3116"/>but Gardiners, Ditchers and Graue‑makers; they hold vp
      <lb n="3117"/>
         <hi rend="italic">Adams</hi>Profession.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3118">Was he a Gentleman?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3119">He was the first that euer bore Armes.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3120">Why he had none.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3121">What, ar't a Heathen? how dost thou vnder­
      <lb n="3122"/>stand the Scripture? the Scripture sayes<hi rend="italic">Adam</hi>dig'd;
      <lb n="3123"/>could hee digge without Armes<c rend="italic">?</c>Ile put another que­
      <lb n="3124"/>stion to thee; if thou answerest me not to the purpose, con­
      <lb n="3125"/>fesse thy selfe⸺</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3126">Go too.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3127">What is he that builds stronger then either the
      <lb n="3128"/>Mason, the Shipwright, or the Carpenter<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3129">The Gallowes maker; for that Frame outliues a
      <lb n="3130"/>thousand Tenants.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3131">I like thy wit well in good faith, the Gallowes
      <lb n="3132"/>does well; but how does it well? it does well to those
      <lb n="3133"/>that doe ill: now, thou dost ill to say the Gallowes is
      <lb n="3134"/>built stronger then the Church: Argall, the Gallowes
      <lb n="3135"/>may doe well to thee. Too't againe, Come.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3136">Who builds stronger then a Mason, a Ship­
      <lb n="3137"/>wright, or a Carpenter?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3138">I, tell me that, and vnyoake.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3139">Marry, now I can tell.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3140">Too't.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">Other.</speaker>
      <p n="3141">Masse, I cannot tell.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Hamlet and Horatio a farre off.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3142">Cudgell thy braines no more about it; for your
      <lb n="3143"/>dull Asse will not mend his pace with beating; and when
      <lb n="3144"/>you are ask't this question next, say a Graue‑maker: the
      <lb n="3145"/>Houses that he makes, lasts till Doomesday: go, get thee
      <lb n="3146"/>to<hi rend="italic">Taughan</hi>, fetch me a stoupe of Liquor.</p>
      <stage type="business" rend="italic center">Sings.</stage>
      <l rend="italic" n="3147">In youth when I did loue, did loue,</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3148">me thought it was very sweete:</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3149">To contract O the time for a my behoue,</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3150">O me thought there was nothing meete.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3151">Ha's this fellow no feeling of his businesse, that
      <lb n="3152"/>he sings at Graue‑making?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3153">Custome hath made it in him a property of ea­
      <lb n="3154"/>sinesse.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3155">Tis ee'n so; the hand of little Imployment hath
      <lb n="3156"/>the daintier sense.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic center">Clowne</speaker>
      <stage type="business" rend="italic inline">sings.</stage>
      <l rend="italic" n="3157">But Age with his stealing steps</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3158">hath caught me in his clutch:</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3159">And hath shipped me intill the Land,</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3160">as if I had neuer beene such.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3161">That Scull had a tongue in it, and could sing
      <lb n="3162"/>once: how the knaue iowles it to th' grownd, as if it
      <lb n="3163"/>were<hi rend="italic">Caines</hi>Iaw‑bone, that did the first murther: It
      <lb n="3164"/>might be the Pate of a Polititian which this Asse o're Of­
      <lb n="3165"/>fices: one that could circumuent God, might it not?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3166">It might, my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3167">Or of a Courtier, which could say, Good Mor­
      <lb n="3168"/>row sweet Lord: how dost thou, good Lord? this
      <lb n="3169"/>might be my Lord such a one, that prais'd my Lord such
      <lb n="3170"/>a ones Horse, when he meant to begge it; might it not?</p>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3171">I, my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3172">Why ee'n so: and now my Lady Wormes,
      <lb n="3173"/>Chaplesse, and knockt about the Mazard with a Sextons
      <lb n="3174"/>Spade; heere's fine Reuolution, if wee had the tricke to
      <lb n="3175"/>fee't. Did these bones cost no more the breeding, but
      <lb n="3176"/>to play at Loggets with 'em? mine ake to thinke
      <lb n="3177"/>on't.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic center">Clowne</speaker>
      <stage type="business" rend="italic inline">sings.</stage>
      <l rend="italic" n="3178">A Pickhaxe and a Spade, a Spade.</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3179">for and a shrowding‐Sheete:</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3180">O a Pit of Clay for to be made,</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3181">for such a Guest is meete.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3182">There's another: why might not that bee the
      <lb n="3183"/>Scull of of a Lawyer? where be his Quiddits now? his
      <lb n="3184"/>Quillets? his Cases? his Tenures, and his Tricks? why
      <lb n="3185"/>doe's he suffer this rude knaue now to knocke him about
      <lb n="3186"/>the Sconce with a dirty Shouell, and will not tell him of
      <lb n="3187"/>his Action of Battery? hum. This fellow might be in's
      <lb n="3188"/>time a great buyer of Land, with his statutes, his Recog­
      <lb n="3189"/>nizances, his Fines, his double Vouchers, his Recoueries:
      <lb n="3190"/>Is this the fine of his Fines, and the recouery of his Reco­
      <lb n="3191"/>ueries, to haue his fine Pate full of fine Dirt? will his
      <lb n="3192"/>Vouchers vouch him no more of his Purchases, and dou­
      <lb n="3193"/>ble ones too, then the length and breadth of a paire of
      <lb n="3194"/>Indentures? the very Conueyances of his Lands will
      <lb n="3195"/>hardly lye in this Boxe; and must the Inheritor himselfe
      <lb n="3196"/>haue no more? ha?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3197">Not a iot more, my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3198">Is not Parchment made of Sheep‑skinnes?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3199">I my Lord, and of Calue‑skinnes too.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3200">They are Sheepe and Calues that seek out assu­
      <lb n="3201"/>rance in that. I will speake to this fellow; whose Graue's
      <lb n="3202"/>this Sir?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3203">Mine Sir:</p>
      <l rend="italic" n="3204">O a Pit of Clay for to be made,</l>
      <l rend="italic" n="3205">for such a Guest is meete.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3206">I thinke it be thine indeed: for thou liest in't.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3207">You lye out on't Sir, and therefore it is not yours:
      <lb n="3208"/>for my part, I doe not lye in't; and yet it is mine.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3209">Thou dost lye in't, to be in't and say 'tis thine:
      <lb n="3210"/>'tis for the dead, not for the quicke, therefore thou
      <lb n="3211"/>lyest.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3212">'Tis a quicke lye Sir, 'twill away againe from me
      <lb n="3213"/>to you.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3214">What man dost thou digge it for<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3215">For no man Sir.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3216">What woman then?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3217">For none neither.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3218">Who is to be buried in't?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3219">One that was a woman Sir; but rest her Soule,
      <lb n="3220"/>shee's dead.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3221">How absolute the knaue is? wee must speake
      <lb n="3222"/>by the Carde, or equiuocation will vndoe vs: by the
      <lb n="3223"/>Lord<hi rend="italic">Horatio,</hi>these three yeares I haue taken note of it,
      <lb n="3224"/>the Age is growne so picked, that the toe of the Pesant
      <lb n="3225"/>comes so neere the heeles of our Courtier, hee galls his
      <lb n="3226"/>Kibe. How long hast thou been a Graue‑maker?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3227">Of all the dayes i'th yeare, I came too't that day
      <lb n="3228"/>that our last King<hi rend="italic">Hamlet</hi>o'recame<hi rend="italic">Fortinbras</hi>.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3229">How long is that since?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3230">Cannot you tell that? euery foole can tell that:
      <lb n="3231"/>It was the very day, that young<hi rend="italic">Hamlet</hi>was borne, hee
      <lb n="3232"/>that was mad, and sent into England.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3233">I marry, why was he sent into England?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3234">Why, because he was mad; hee shall recouer his
      <lb n="3235"/>wits there; or if he do not, it's no great matter there.</p>
   </sp>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0788-0.jpg" n="278"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3236">Why?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3237">'Twill not beseene in him, there the men are
      <lb n="3238"/>as mad as he.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3239">How came he mad?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3240">Very strangely they say.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3241">How strangely?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3242">Faith e'ene with loosing his wits.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3243">Vpon what ground?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3244">Why heere in Denmarke: I haue bin sixeteene
      <lb n="3245"/>heere, man and Boy thirty yeares.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3246">How long will a man lie'ith'earth ere he rot?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3247">Ifaith, if he be not rotten before he die (as we haue
      <lb n="3248"/>many pocky Coarses now adaies, that will scarce hold
      <lb n="3249"/>the laying in) he will last you some eight yeare, or nine
      <lb n="3250"/>yeare. A Tanner will last you nine year e.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3251">Why he, more then another?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3252">Why sir, his hide is so tan'd with his Trade, that
      <lb n="3253"/>he will keepe out water a great while. And your water,
      <lb n="3254"/>is a sore Decayer of your horson dead body. Heres a Scull
      <lb n="3255"/>now: this Scul, has laine in the earth three &amp; twenty years.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3256">Whose was it<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3257">A whorson mad Fellowes it was;</p>
      <p n="3258">Whose doe you think it was?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3259">Nay, I know not.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3260">A pestlence on him for a mad Rogue, a<choice>
            <orig>pou'rd</orig>
            <corr>pour'd</corr>
         </choice>a
      <lb n="3261"/>Flaggon of Renish on my head once. This same Scull
      <lb n="3262"/>Sir, this same Scull sir, was<hi rend="italic">Yoricks</hi>Scull, the Kings Iester.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3263">This?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-clo.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clo.</speaker>
      <p n="3264">E'ene that.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3265">Let me see. Alas poore<hi rend="italic">Yorick</hi>, I knew him<hi rend="italic">Ho­
      <lb n="3266"/>ratio,</hi>a fellow of infinite Iest; of most excellent fancy, he
      <lb n="3267"/>hath borne me on his backe a thousand times.
      <lb n="3268"/>And how abhorred my Imagination is, my gorge rises at it. Heere
      <lb n="3269"/>hung those lipps, that I haue kist I know not how oft.
      <lb n="3270"/>VVhere be your Iibes now? Your Gambals<c rend="italic">?</c>Your
      <lb n="3271"/>Songs? Your flashes of Merriment that were wont to
      <lb n="3272"/>set the Table on a Rore? No one now to mock your own
      <lb n="3273"/>Ieering? Quite chopfalne? Now get you to my Ladies
      <lb n="3274"/>Chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thicke, to this
      <lb n="3275"/>fauour she must come. Make her laugh at that: pry­
      <lb n="3276"/>thee<hi rend="italic">Horatio</hi>tell me one thing.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3277">What's that my Lord?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3278">Dost thou thinke<hi rend="italic">Alexander</hi>lookt o'this fa­
      <lb n="3279"/>shion i'th'earth?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3280">E'ene so.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3281">And smelt so? Puh.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3282">E'ene so, my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3283">To what base vses we may returne<hi rend="italic">Horatio.</hi>
         
      <lb n="3284"/>Why may not Imagination trace the Noble dust of<hi rend="italic">A­
      <lb n="3285"/>lexander</hi>, till he find it stopping a bunghole.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-hor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Hor.</speaker>
      <p n="3286">'Twere to consider: to curiously to consider so.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <p n="3287">No faith, not a iot. But to follow him thether
      <lb n="3288"/>with modestie enough, &amp; likeliehood to lead it; as thus.
      <lb n="3289"/>
         <hi rend="italic">Alexander</hi>died:<hi rend="italic">Alexander</hi>was buried:<hi rend="italic">Alexander</hi>re­
      <lb n="3290"/>turneth into dust; the dust is earth; of earth we make
      <lb n="3291"/>Lome, and why of that Lome (whereto he was conuer­
      <lb n="3292"/>ted) might they not stopp a Beere‑barrell?</p>
      <l n="3293">Imperiall<hi rend="italic">Cæsar</hi>, dead and turn'd to clay,</l>
      <l n="3294">Might stop a hole to keepe the winde away.</l>
      <l n="3295">Oh, that that earth, which kept the world in awe,</l>
      <l n="3296">Should patch a Wall, t'expell the winters flaw.</l>
      <l n="3297">But soft, but soft, aside; heere comes the King.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter King, Queen, Laertes, and a Coffin,
      <lb/>with Lords attendant.</stage>
      <l n="3298">The Queene, the Courtiers. Who is that they follow,</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="3299">And with such maimed rites? This doth betoken,</l>
      <l n="3300">The Coarse they follow, did with disperate hand,</l>
      <l n="3301">Fore do it owne life; 'twas fome Estate.</l>
      <l n="3302">Couch we a while, and mark.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-lae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Laer.</speaker>
      <l n="3303">What Cerimony else?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3304">That is<hi rend="italic">Laertes,</hi>a very Noble youth: Marke.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-lae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Laer.</speaker>
      <l n="3305">What Cerimony else?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-pri">
      <speaker rend="italic">Priest.</speaker>
      <l n="3306">Her Obsequies haue bin as farre inlarg'd.</l>
      <l n="3307">As we haue warrantis, her death was doubtfull,</l>
      <l n="3308">And but that great Command, o're‑swaies the order,</l>
      <l n="3309">She should in ground vnsanctified haue lodg'd,</l>
      <l n="3310">Till the last Trumpet. For charitable praier,</l>
      <l n="3311">Shardes, Flints, and Peebles, I should be throwne on her:</l>
      <l n="3312">Yet heere she is allowed her Virgin Rites,</l>
      <l n="3313">Her Maiden strewments, and the bringing home</l>
      <l n="3314">Of Bell and Buriall.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-lae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Laer.</speaker>
      <l n="3315">Must there no more be done?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-pri">
      <speaker rend="italic">Priest.</speaker>
      <l n="3316">No more be done:</l>
      <l n="3317">We should prophane the seruice of the dead,</l>
      <l n="3318">To sing sage<hi rend="italic">Requiem,</hi>and such rest to her</l>
      <l n="3319">As to peace‑parted Soules.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-lae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Laer.</speaker>
      <l n="3320">Lay her i'th'earth,</l>
      <l n="3321">And from her faire and vnpolluted flesh,</l>
      <l n="3322">May Violets spring. I tell thee (churlish Priest)</l>
      <l n="3323">A Ministring Angell shall my Sister be,</l>
      <l n="3324">When thou liest howling<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3325">What, the faire<hi rend="italic">Ophelia</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ger">
      <speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
      <l n="3326">Sweets, to the sweet farewell.</l>
      <l n="3327">I hop'd thou should'st haue bin my<hi rend="italic">Hamlets</hi>wife:</l>
      <l n="3328">I thought thy Bride‑bed to haue deckt (sweet Maid)</l>
      <l n="3329">And not t'haue strew'd thy Graue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-lae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Laer.</speaker>
      <l n="3330">Oh terrible woer,</l>
      <l n="3331">Fall ten times trebble, on that cursed head</l>
      <l n="3332">Whose wicked deed, thy most Ingenious sence</l>
      <l n="3333">Depriu'd thee of. Hold off the earth a while,</l>
      <l n="3334">Till I haue caught her once more in mine armes:</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Leaps in the graue.</stage>
      <l n="3335">Now pile your dust, vpon the quick, and dead,</l>
      <l n="3336">Till of this flat a Mountaine you haue made,</l>
      <l n="3337">To o're top old<hi rend="italic">Pelion</hi>, or the skyish head</l>
      <l n="3338">Of blew<hi rend="italic">Olympus</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3339">What is he, whose griefes</l>
      <l n="3340">Beares such an Emphasis? whose phrase of Sorrow</l>
      <l n="3341">Coniure the wandrinig Starres, and makes them stand</l>
      <l n="3342">Like wonder‑wounded hearers? This is I,</l>
      <l n="3343">
         <hi rend="italic">Hamlet</hi>the Dane.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-lae">
      <speaker rend="italic">Laer.</speaker>
      <l n="3344">The deuill take thy soule.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3345">Thou prai'st not well,</l>
      <l n="3346">I prythee take thy fingers from my throat;</l>
      <l n="3347">Sir though I am not Spleenatiue, and rash,</l>
      <l n="3348">Yet haue I fomething in me dangerous,</l>
      <l n="3349">Which let thy wisenesse feare. Away thy hand.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-cla">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="3350">Pluck them asunder.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ger">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="3351">
         <hi rend="italic">Hamlet, Hamlet.</hi>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-gen">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gen.</speaker>
      <l n="3352">Good my Lord be quiet.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3353">Why I will fight with him vppon this Theme,</l>
      <l n="3354">Vntill my eielids will no longer wag.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ger">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="3355">Oh my Sonne, what Theame?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3356">I lou'd<hi rend="italic">Ophelia;</hi>fortie thousand Brothers</l>
      <l n="3357">Could not (with all there quanitie of Loue)</l>
      <l n="3358">Make vp my summe. What wilt thou do for her?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-cla">
      <speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
      <l n="3359">Oh he is mad Laertes,</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ger">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="3360">For loue of God forbeare him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3361">Come show me what thou'lt doe.</l>
      <l n="3362">Woo't weepe? Woo't fight? Woo't teare thy selfe?</l>
      <l n="3363">Woo't drinke vp<hi rend="italic">Esile</hi>, eate a Crocodile?</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0789-0.jpg" n="259"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="3364">Ile doo't. Dost thou come heere to whine;</l>
      <l n="3365">To outface me with leaping in her Graue<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="3366">Be buried quicke with her, and so will I.</l>
      <l n="3367">And if thou prate of Mountaines; let them throw</l>
      <l n="3368">Millions of Akers on vs; till our ground</l>
      <l n="3369">Sindging his pate against the burning Zone,</l>
      <l n="3370">Make<hi rend="italic">Ossa</hi>like a wart. Nay, and thoul't mouth,</l>
      <l n="3371">Ile rant as well as thou.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-cla">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kin.</speaker>
      <l n="3372">This is meere Madnesse;</l>
      <l n="3373">And thus awhile the fit will worke on him:</l>
      <l n="3374">Anon as patient as the female Doue,</l>
      <l n="3375">When that her golden Cuplet are disclos'd;</l>
      <l n="3376">His silence will sit drooping.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-ham-ham">
      <speaker rend="italic">Ham.</speaker>
      <l n="3377">Heare you Sir:</l>
      <l n="3378">What is the reason that you vse me thus?</l>
      <l n="3379">I<choice>
            <orig>loud'</orig>
            <corr>lou'd</corr>
         </choice>you euer; but it is no matter:</l>
      <l n="3380">Let<hi rend="italic">Hercules</hi>himselfe doe what he may,</l>
      <l n="3381">The Cat will Mew, and Dogge will haue his day.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-ham-cla">
      <speaker rend="italic">Kin.</speaker>
      <l n="3382">I pray you good<hi rend="italic">Horatio</hi>wait vpon him,</l>
      <l n="3383">Strengthen you patience in our last nights speech,</l>
      <l n="3384">Wee'l put the matter to the present push:</l>
      <l n="3385">Good<hi rend="italic">Gertrude</hi>set some watch ouer your Sonne,</l>
      <l n="3386">This Graue shall haue a liuing Monument:</l>
      <l n="3387">An houre of quiet shortly shall we see;</l>
      <l n="3388">Till then, in patience our proceeding be.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

                                
                            

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